


Desert Island Discoveries

by marysutherland



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 15:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marysutherland/pseuds/marysutherland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft Holmes desires no title or honour. Well, perhaps one...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desert Island Discoveries

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another fic inspired by the [wet!Lestrade](http://blooms84.livejournal.com/55373.html) festival, and also by Mark Gatiss' appearance on [Desert Island Discs](http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/features/desert-island-discs/castaway/6ee4daa3#b0167vjr).

Mycroft Holmes was the most indispensable man in the country. He received 450,000 Swiss francs a year, remained a subordinate, had no ambitions of any kind, and knew he would receive neither title nor honour. He desired none, of course; though he would rather have liked to appear on _Desert Island Discs_.

For years he had refined his list of records, just in case Sue Lawley , or now Kirsty Young, should call. He'd pondered how much Mozart was too much, whether Sibelius would suit the tropics, if he could somehow squeeze in one Coward song. The book too was tricky: would Chekhov or Dostoyevsky best suit his mood? But his luxury had always stayed constant – a bath with ample hot water.

It was odd that recently, as he fell asleep each night, he no longer bothered rehearsing his witty insights into his record choices, the delicate, indiscreet anecdotes about his career. Instead, he now found his mind skipping right to the end, to discussing how he would cope on a deserted island. As he cheerily admitted to Kirsty that his ideal tropical paradise was now slightly less solitary, that he planned to find his own Man Friday. That there was now not only hot, fresh water, but a grinning, naked detective inspector in his imaginary cast iron roll top bath.


End file.
